


Never Have I Ever

by GrimmonsOwnsMyAss



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Drinking Games, Getting Together, Grimmons endgame, Locus/Simmons is only referenced, Love Confessions, M/M, Simmons is not a virgin, drunk! Simmons, rating is because of references to sex and language, this is news to everyone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:00:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27462346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrimmonsOwnsMyAss/pseuds/GrimmonsOwnsMyAss
Summary: Grif bumps his shoulder. "Only you would be able to call me ugly and come onto me at the same time.""Is it working?""What, calling me ugly?""No, me coming onto you."Grif laughs, shaking his head. "You're so drunk.""In Vino Veritas.""I don't speak French, nerd.""It's Latin, you idiot." Simmons scolds, slapping Grif lightly. "I'm trying to tell you I'm being honest.""Well, it would be way more convincing if you weren't slurring your words and walking like a pigeon-toed deer.""If you're not interested you can just say that, asshole.""I didn't say I wasn't interested, fuckwad. I said I didn't believe you."
Relationships: Dexter Grif/Dick Simmons, Locus | Samuel Ortez/Dick Simmons
Comments: 13
Kudos: 73





	Never Have I Ever

**Author's Note:**

> CW: Mature rating is due to graphic language - cursing and references to sex.

Simmons shakes his head as Donut calls them all into a circle. He settles down next to Grif and props his elbows up on the coffee table. 

“Next we’re going to play ‘Never Have I Ever’!” Donut says with way too much excitement. “Take a shot every time someone says something you’ve done!”

Simmons rolls his eyes, briefly locking gazes with Grif. The Hawaiian man smirks, and Simmons knows that Donut is going to get the tough end of things for making them come to this stupid party in the first place.

Sarge looks unfairly optimistic, and honestly, the rate at which he consumes beer should indicate how high his tolerance is.

Grif is relaxed next to Simmons, and the redhead casually leans against his shoulder. Their easy sense of physical affection has existed since early in their college careers.

When Grif’s turn rolls around, he smirks evilly, eyeing Donut pointedly. “Never have I ever hooked up with a frat guy.”

Donut downs a shot without complaint. In fact, he looks pretty smug about it.

Simmons sighs and takes a shot of whiskey, frowning at the burn in his throat.

“Oh my gods,” Donut exclaims. “Simmons!”

That catches Simmons’ attention, and soon he’s aware of everyone looking at him. It makes him a bit anxious, but it’s not as bad since everyone at the party is at least semi-friendly with each other.

"What?"

Tucker barks out a laugh. "Dude, I totally thought you were straight and a virgin. My worldview has been upended!" 

"You thought I was straight?" Simmons has never been more offended and it must show on his face judging from the uproarious laughter that follows.

"And a Virginia!" Caboose helpfully supplies. Church scoots the alcohol further away from him.

Simmons' face feels hot. "Well, I'm neither. Now can we please keep going?" 

"Hell no!" Tucker says. "We need details!"

"Who was it? Maybe we're dick brothers!" Donut squeals excitedly.

Simmons turns to Grif with a deadpan expression. "Please, end my life."

Grif snorts, sipping at his beer before speaking. "I gotta admit, dude. I'm curious, too."

"You're a fucking traitor." 

Donut keeps pressing him to tell, and Tucker refuses to let the game continue until Simmons spills the beans.

Simmons reaches forward and pours himself another shot, downing it swiftly and pouring himself another. "Locus."

There's a brief moment of stunned silence before everyone screams.

Grif bellows in laughter, slapping his folded knees. Sarge is chuckling as if Simmons told him a particularly good insult about Grif. And even Donut has tears in his eyes.

Tucker is wheezing when he speaks next. "You're funny, dude. But seriously who was it."

Simmons feels his face deepen in color. "I'm not joking."

Once again, stunned silence. "Fact check!" Tucker shouts at Donut, who's already whipping out his phone. He presses a few buttons and soon the sound of him calling someone is playing loudly from his phone. 

Everyone quickly quiets, attention almost wholly devoted to Donut's phone.

"...What?" Locus answers, sounding annoyed already.

"Locus, did you fuck Simmons?" 

Simmons downs a shot and then pours another. He ignores Grif’s eyes staring intently at him. "I would like to pass away," he whispers into his hands as he hides his face.

"What is this about, Donut?" Locus sounds surprised and defeated at the same time.

"Please just answer the question," Tucker adds.

A sigh is heard from the phone. A pause. "Yes, Simmons and I slept together." Another pause. "And I wouldn't mind doing it again." 

The entire room erupts into various shouts or peels of laughter.

"And he didn't pay you to say this?" Tucker asks incredulously. 

"No," he says, deadpan. "Is that all?"

"Yep!" Donut quickly hangs up the phone, and the room's attention returns to Simmons. 

Simmons looks at all of them and glares. "Can we move on?" 

Thankfully, the game goes on, and things mostly settle down. That is until Simmons and Grif are walking back to their shared apartment.

Simmons is pretty drunk, and Grif, surprisingly, is relatively sober. Though Simmons supposes, Grif has a higher tolerance, so it kind of makes sense.

"I can't believe you slept with Locus." 

Simmons snorts, too drunk to care about it anymore. "Yeah, I didn't think he'd be interested."

"I didn't mean it like that," he corrects. "Have you seen Felix? Locus is 100% into twinks."

Simmons pauses. "Am I a twink?"

Grif gives him a knowing look, and Simmons sighs.

"But I mostly just meant that I always thought you were straight. I mean, you always freak out around girls."

"I'm terrified of women, not attracted to them. You ever try on a pair of heels or get your eyebrows plucked? Women torture themselves for the aesthetic." He shakes his head. "They're awesome, but they don't get my motor going."

Simmons doesn't even think about how much he's rambling.

"But men? Dude, have you seen how hot guys can be?" Simmons looks pointedly at Grif. "You look in the mirror most days, right?"

Grif’s eyebrows shoot up and he almost trips on a crack in the sidewalk.

Simmons laughs. 

Grif shakes himself out of whatever state he's in. He gestures to his stained t-shirt and gut. "You think I'm hot?"

Simmons nods. "I mean, conventionally? You're probably not hotter than Locus, but you're way more my type than he is."

Grif bumps his shoulder. "Only you would be able to call me ugly and come onto me at the same time." 

"Is it working?"

"What, calling me ugly?"

"No, me coming onto you."

Grif laughs, shaking his head. "You're so drunk."

"In Vino Veritas."

"I don't speak French, nerd."

"It's Latin, you idiot." Simmons scolds, slapping Grif lightly. "I'm trying to tell you I'm being honest."

"Well, it would be way more convincing if you weren't slurring your words and walking like a pigeon-toed deer."

"If you're not interested you can just say that, asshole."

"I didn't say I wasn't interested, fuckwad. I said I didn't believe you."

"So you would?"

"I would what?"

"You would fuck me?" 

Grif steers him toward the entrance to their apartment complex. "What tonight? Nah, you're too drunk."

"So, if I asked you while sober, you would?"

Grif snorts in amusement. "Sure."

"You still don't believe me," Simmons whines. 

"I'm not getting my hopes up," Grif says. 

They reach their front door, and Grif has to fish around in Simmons' pockets for the keys. They both really thought Simmons would be the responsible one tonight. 

"What would you say if I asked you on a date?"

Grif drops the keys as he's trying to unlock the door. He breathes out slowly through his nose, closing his eyes.

"Please tell me you aren't making fun of me right now."

Simmons makes a questioning noise, pressing himself up against Grif’s back fully. He wraps his arms around Grif’s waist, placing his chin on Grif’s shoulder.

"I'm serious," he says softly, and Grif turns around in his hold. "Hypothetically, if I asked you on a date, what would you say."

"Hypothetically?" Grif murmurs.

Simmons nods. "Humor me."

Grif hums, and Simmons feels a large warm hand settle on his hip. "Well, it would definitely depend on what the date consists of." He pauses and smiles softly. "And you would definitely need to be sober for it."

Simmons hums and pretends to think. "We get food from your favorite diner and we watch trashy reality TV while we eat it."

Grif breaks out into a wide grin. "Sounds kinda nice." He pulls out of Simmons grasp and blessedly doesn't say anything about the soft whine Simmons makes. “How’s that any different from when we normally hang out?”

“We makeout after.” 

Grif grins. “Are you assuming I want to kiss you?”

"Grif," he complains. He picks up the keys and opens the door for them, ushering Simmons inside.

"You need to drink some water before you do anything else tonight."

"But-"

"No buts." Grif fills a plastic cup from their tap. "If you wanna go on a date with me, you need to be alive tomorrow." 

"Fine." Simmons stomps his foot and pouts but drinks the water when Grif hands it to him. When he's done, Grif immediately refills it, and Simmons drinks that too.

"I can't believe I'm mother henning you." Grif shakes his head. "No more getting drunk for you. I don't like this role reversal bullshit."

Simmons rolls his eyes. "Whatever, fatass. You're cuddling with me tonight."

Grif rolls his eyes but obediently follows him to his bedroom. "We're not having sex," he reminds Simmons.

"I said cuddle you illiterate fuck."

"It's not literacy if you're talking, doofus."

"Shut up, asshole."

"Oh, so I'm the asshole for caring about consent?"

"I'm not praising you for doing the bare minimum, Grif."

"Oh, fuck off and brush your teeth. I'll meet you in bed after I change." 

"Fuck you." But he does what Grif says anyway, and tomorrow, they'll go on their first date.

Finally.

**Author's Note:**

> They're soulmates, your honor.


End file.
